Want some tea?
by Yiramy
Summary: England gets reminded of the fact it wasn't him who invented this godly drink called tea. Just a conversation between two old enemies/allies/friends. Oneshot.


This is again.. nothing serious. Clara, this is for you. :D

xXx

"This place hasn't changed at all, has it?"

The man in front of him grumbled something and pointed at a hatstand. It was solid, massive wood. Oak, or mahogany maybe. The visitor couldn't help but admire it's beauty. Probably hand made. Probably worth a lot of money.

"Don't get me wrong, I like you decorated the place four centuries ago and I like it now. Just surprised." He hung up both coat and scarf carefully at the hatstand and was already busy with untying his shoes until he realised he wasn't in Scandinavia and had to leave his shoes on. With hands in his pockets he followed the Brit to the living room. He smirked for a second. It had been a long time since he had shown up at the man's private house - or rather, a villa, the show-off - but it felt like yesterday. Alright, maybe somewhat longer than that, but for a nation it wasn't that long ago.

"Take a seat."

He did as he was told and shove a few cushions aside.

"Well, William. Why did you decide to visit me?"

The other man laughed. "Straight down to business, Arthur? I thought that, from the two of us, you were the one well mannered enough to offer me some drink." He saw the other gritting his teeth and smirked. Then he glanced at the sofa. This was pretty old, too... was it velvet? And oak again, massive oak, if his eyes didn't fool him. So expensive...

England frowned at him and wanted to give him a snarky response, but in the end just sticked with "Y-yes. That's right. My excuses. Would you like some tea?"

"Tea. Sounds good."

While the Englishman disappeared in the kitchen, his guest looked around. Such a pretty room. It could belong in some kind of museum, or a palace. And that painting! Was that a real Monet? He never knew Arthur could appreciate art. Maybe it was a gift from Francis, he snickered. Standing up and studying the painting up close, nose just a centimeter away from the canvas, admiring the rough colourful strokes, the raw beauty -

"Don't you dare touch that."

Taking a step back, he glanced at England, who had come back with tea and biscuits. "I wasn't touching it!"

"Of course you weren't," the Brit said, clearly annoyed. "Damned Dutch."

The Dutchman held his hand behind his ear. "What did you say? I didn't catch that." Returning to his seat, he smiled at the blonde man and studied the coffee table instead. He hadn't seen this table before, but it sure would be just as expensive as the chairs and sofa. Or the Monet, for that matter. It was funny to see how the Brit liked expensive things. Although he claimed to be nicer, softer, 'a gentleman' - the Netherlands seriously doubted that - he still had that greedy side of him. Although the man didn't rob - or was it commandeer? conquer? - other people's possessions anymore, it was fairly obvious he loved to show off how rich he was. His treasures. Amazing how someone could change so much in a few centuries yet remained the same.

Taking a cup in his hands, he took a small sip, only to get his tongue burned. The stuff was unbearably hot! He himself regularly drank tea as well, but it was never this warm.

"Earl Grey with a hint of lemon," England proudly told him.

He nodded approvingly. "Nice taste, a bit too hot though." Far too hot. His poor tongue.

"Too hot? My tea's never too hot."

"Your tea?" the Netherlands grinned. "That's a good one."

The man seated opposite of him nearly choked on his tea in his hurry to say something. "It's my tea!"

The Netherlands just give him a look.

"Fine, it's from China, but I improved it and most people like my tea better anyways!"

The Dutchman now smirked - dared to pick up his tea and take another sip - and stared at Arthur, who was now wishing he'd never let the tall man in. They usually got along, but when the two of them were alone, they always ended up teasing the other. They'd been enemies and allies in the past for so many times.. no matter what, they had created a strong bond, whether they liked it or not. "And who told you about this magical hot drink called tea?"

England looked like he was able to smash the antique coffee table in two. "The Dutch Republic who had so little pride he bowed for the Chinese," he finally spat out.

"What does pride have to do with it? It was a nice business."

"You did the same in Japan and Taiwan, didn't you?"

"Maybe," was the Netherlands' response. "It definitely helped my country back then. Until you showed up," he added with a frown. "But that's all forgiven."

Arthur snorted. "As if I need your forgiveness." He finished his tea and looked up at his guest. "Why are you even here? You told me it was urgent."

"That was a lie," the Dutchman grinned. When the other glared at him, he shrugged. "I can't visit you for no reason?" Then, with a mischievous look in his eyes; "But while I'm here anyway, is that hat stand in the hall for sale?"

"Bloody hell not!"

"Pity."

"You can have the kitchen counters, though. IKEA. Always knew it was rubbish."

"No thanks. But I like that cuckoo clock over there as well."

"What's wrong with you? You can't just wander into someone's house and ask if you can buy half of the furniture!" England was now completely red in the face, but still managed to finish his tea without spilling a drop of it. Admirable, Willem thought.

"Just teasing, lad."

"Don't call me lad!"

"How am I supposed to call you then? Princess?"

The man stood up, put his cup of tea down and walked straight to the Netherlands. Gripping him by his collar, noses almost touching each other, he hissed; "Please be aware you're talking to the man who owned the seven seas while you never did. Understood?" Then, as if nothing happened, he went back to his own seat and smiled.

"Another cup of tea?"

The other could only nod.


End file.
